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“I’m already regretting this,” Kaoru says with a sigh as he hands his car keys off to the acting valet, who, he imagines, must’ve been standing outside for an hour in anticipation of their arrival.
If the man was inconvenienced by their tardiness, none of it shows in his pleasant smile as he bows his head and says, “Please, step inside. The young master will be with you shortly.”
Kojiro spares him a wave before rolling his eyes at Kaoru. “You say that every time, and every time it’s fine.”
“Yes, but every time, Ainosuke gets more insufferable, flaunting her about like she’s some trophy.”
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Kojiro says as they reach the door, shooting Kaoru a knowing look. “Tadashi says Misaki’s a speed demon and a chatterbox right now. She’s getting to be more like her daddy every day.”
“Don’t remind me that there are two of them,” Kaoru murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. “I was really hoping she’d take after Tadashi—his manners, at the very least.”
They’re barely through the doorway when the room fills with a sudden shriek that makes Kaoru wince.
“Incoming,” Kojiro mutters under his breath, placing a steadying palm flat against his lower back, just in time to support Kaoru as a strong weight is thrown against his shins and has him wobbling on his feet.
“Uncle’s here! Uncle’s here!”
“Ah…” Kaoru’s hands freeze mid-air as he looks down at the small child whose arms are wrapped tightly around his thighs in an unrelenting hug. With the way she’s pressing her face into his kimono, he can’t see much more than the top of her head and the single ponytail that has most of her blue locks gathered to one side. He looks from the girl to Kojiro and back before bending slightly and gingerly patting her back. “Hello there.”
This time when he looks at Kojiro, he finds him grinning wide, shoulders shaking as he tries to fight off laughter. Kaoru has half a mind to smack him, but instead, he tugs at Kojiro’s shirt collar with his free hand, pulling him in close so he can just barely hear Kaoru hiss, “She’s wrinkling my clothes,” with an undercurrent of, Do something about this now.
This only seems to set Kojiro off, and he barks a surprise laugh before removing his hand from Kaoru’s back and slapping it over his mouth. It takes longer than Kaoru would like for Kojiro to finally compose himself, but when he does, he backs away from Kaoru and falls to one knee.
“What, no love for Uncle Koji?” he says teasingly, causing the girl’s head to snap in his direction, finally exposing her brilliant green eyes. Smiling wide, he opens his arms. “C’mere, kiddo—oof.”
Kaoru runs his hands down the front of his kimono, flattening the fabric back out while Kojiro makes a show of trapping Misaki in a bear hug, lifting her right off the ground and swinging her around until she’s squealing into his neck.
“Don’t break her, Kojiro,” he scolds, cringing and leaning away as Kojiro tickles Misaki’s sides and her cries grow even louder. “If you do, Tadashi will make sure that no one finds your body, and I won’t say a word.”
Kojiro glares at Kaoru over top of Misaki’s head and sticks his tongue out. Absolute child.
“If it isn’t my favorite disaster duo,” Ainosuke’s voice rings out, and Kaoru turns to see the man coming down the grand staircase before them. Ainosuke’s arms are outstretched, smile a touch too saccharine to be genuine, and Kaoru finds himself faintly hoping that he misses a step and makes an utter fool of himself. “You’re late.”
“For what?” Kaoru shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest as Ainosuke reaches the base of the stairs without incident. “I’m sorry, did the tea you painstakingly had your servant prepare run cold? How thoughtless of me.”
“I can see you’re rude as ever. Miss your morning caffeine, darling?” Ainosuke replies, even as he draws Kaoru into a brief hug and brushes his cheek with a gentle greeting kiss. “Thank you for coming.”
“Mmm.” Kaoru rolls his eyes and returns the cheek kiss. “With all the constant lobbying and parenting, I’ve been worried that you don’t have a single remaining brain cell that remembers how to be a normal human being.”
“I’ll give you the first one, but don’t come at me just because you require too much personal upkeep and attention to ever raise a child of your own.” Ainosuke watches Kojiro for a moment as he finally sets Misaki back down, hands resting on her shoulders until she’s calmed down and is steady on her feet. “This may come as a surprise to someone like you, but she grounds me. I would argue that she makes me feel more like a person every day.”
Kaoru doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he doesn’t, and Ainosuke seems to know him well enough that he quickly moves on and gestures for Misaki to come to him. She skips to his side and grabs his hand, already pulling him back toward the stairs as if it had been her idea to move them all upstairs.
“Well, come along, then,” Ainosuke calls over his shoulder with a smirk. “Petal says it’s time for tea.”
They settle in a quaint sitting room—quaint by Ainosuke’s standards, of course, which is to say that the room is still quite large, packed wall to wall with bookshelves, with most of the space unused aside from the two couches and chairs crowded in the middle of the room.
“I thought this would be a nice, cozy option for your visit,” Ainosuke explains as Kaoru rigidly (but not inelegantly) sits down on the loveseat across from Ainosuke’s, Kojiro in a large armchair off to the side. He thinks up a number of ways to snidely remind Ainosuke that he’s a spoiled rich boy who’s incredibly out of touch with his expectations of room sizes, but somehow, he and Kojiro are already wrapped up in a discussion about possibilities for Sia la Luce’s expansion and how Kojiro still does not want to cater for his fancy campaign parties.
Kaoru watches them silently for a moment before a small cough catches his attention. He turns his head to see Misaki standing in front of him, presenting him with a cup on a decorative saucer.
“Your tea is ready, sir,” she says deliberately, as if reciting a line that she’s heard a thousand times—and, judging by the way Ainosuke immediately smiles and mutters something in Tadashi’s ear, she probably has.
“Thank you very much.” He accepts Misaki’s offering and takes a sip, pleasantly surprised to find the tea resting at the perfect temperature despite the remarks he’d made when they first arrived.
“Sweet petal,” Ainosuke chimes in as Misaki walks back to the small table nestled between them, “my dearest, why don’t you take Uncle Kao some of the snacks as well. He looks famished.”
Kaoru struggles not to curl his lip and argue something about how his appetite isn’t that outrageous, and how Ainosuke should stop using his child as a server. Misaki practically bounces on her feet at the task she’s been given, though, and he finds himself unwilling to dampen her mood. Instead, he quietly watches her fumble with the serving tongs and crush several crackers before she gives up and uses her hands.
Kaoru has his sweetest customer service smile prepared for her when she offers him his plate of half-broken crackers and misshapen mochi slices. He moves to set the plate aside, but he quickly realizes that Misaki seems to be waiting expectantly for…something. He looks between her and the plate for a moment before picking up one of the broken cracker bits and popping it into his mouth.
“Delicious,” he hums, nodding his head. “Thank you.”
It’s the right thing to do, judging from the way Misaki beams at him and finally heads back to the table to indulge in her own snacks. He lets out a measured sigh, forcing himself to let go of the tension in his limbs and relaxing into the arm of the couch.
’She’s just a human person, but like…little,’ he recalls Kojiro’s assurances from earlier that morning. ’Just treat her like you would anyone else.’
Yeah. Easier said than done.
Handling people comes easy to Kojiro, and while Kaoru can make it look easy, having clients smiling and singing his praises takes an exhausting amount of calculation and effort. Even then, he only manages to make the desired impact because he can loosely gauge someone’s motivations—what they want out of exchanges with him, what their expectations of him are.
Children, though, are a different beast altogether and seem to almost speak a whole nother language. One misinterpreted word could lead to a fit of tears without Kaoru ever noticing a problem and being unable to determine the solution. He’s been told that children are resilient and forgiving, but he can’t stop himself from viewing them as fragile—one wrong step, and he’ll do irreversible damage.
Despite his intentions to relax, he finds himself getting wound up again from his thoughts, unaware of the conversations happening around him. He distantly recognizes Kojiro giving his fingers a quick squeeze, which he loathes and appreciates all at the same time. While he loves that Kojiro is kind and supportive, he also resents that he looks like he needs the support, especially over what is objectively a simple matter. He’s just being dramatic, Kaoru tells himself.
This is the same thing he tells himself when Misaki makes her way back to the couch and crawls up next to Kaoru, her hand occasionally finding its way onto Kaoru’s leg for support as she gets settled. Having made the mistake of wearing a rather pale kimono, Kaoru can already see the tracks of crumbs and grease staining the fabric from Misaki’s touch, and he takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, summoning patience that he doesn’t feel.
It gives him the strength to send her a smile that he hopes is reassuring, that doesn’t give away his very obvious (to Kojiro, anyway) discomfort, before he hastily grabs and sips at his tea. The vague warmth on his tongue is soothing, as is the way he’s able to run his finger along the intricate embossed pattern on the outside of the cup.
“Are these new?” he says suddenly, clinking his nail against the porcelain to summon Ainosuke’s attention. He doesn’t particularly care to hear the answer, but he does enjoy how embarrassingly excited Ainosuke gets about his fine china.
As expected, Ainosuke perks up instantly, and though Tadashi starts to answer, Ainosuke hushes him with a finger over Tadashi’s mouth.
“I was hoping you would notice,” he brags, practically preening. “I try to be mindful of your conservative tastes, but even you have to admit that these are absolutely gorgeous. You know, I have a contact—a gentleman I went to school with, actually—in England who…”
And on he goes. Kaoru tunes out most of it, nodding now and again when it seems appropriate, but mostly appreciating the way Ainosuke’s prattling serves as calming white noise. The conversation gets him through most of his cup of tea before somehow diverging into a discussion of dog shows—something about Ainosuke’s acquaintance sponsoring purebreds or attending the shows or having a strong opinion on them; Kaoru doesn’t know.
When he finally finishes his tea, he gently places his cup down on the small table at his elbow, only mildly interested in listening to Ainosuke and Tadashi banter about what breed of dog would be most suitable for their family. They want to get one soon, now that Misaki is steadier on her feet and growing more independent every day, but apparently, they have yet to reach an agreement on the perfect dog. It’s something that Ainosuke is very (perhaps too) passionate about, judging by the way he cites everything from professional sources to forum discussions on the matter.
Eventually, Kaoru loses track of the conversation, thoughts drifting off as he mindlessly picks at his nail beds. What brings him back is the unsettling feeling of being watched. He doesn’t have to turn his head to know that Misaki has taken to looking at him with an uncomfortable intensity, like she’s memorizing his every angle. It’s nothing she hasn’t done before, but it’s hard not to acknowledge, with her sitting right next to him, leaning in close enough that her breaths gently rustle his sleeve.
He politely pretends not to notice for as long as he can, but his nerves ultimately get the better of him, and he finds himself meeting Misaki’s gaze without meaning to.
“Is something wrong?” he asks quietly, instead of doing something he might regret, like trying to teach her a life lesson in front of her parents about the rudeness of staring.
Misaki bobs her head back and forth to a tune Kaoru can’t hear, seemingly thinking hard about his question. Then, she shakes her head and leans in closer, as if to tell an important secret.
“You’re really pretty.”
“Oh.” It’s not at all what Kaoru was expecting, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks. “Thank you, darling. I think you’re very pretty, too.”
Misaki giggles at that, slapping her hands to her cheeks as they warm with a blush of their own. She fidgets for a moment, clearly wanting to say more, and so Kaoru waits. If she does genuinely take after Ainosuke, then she won’t be able to resist blurting out whatever else she wants to share.
“My doll has pink hair like your hair.”
Ah. So that’s it.
Kaoru racks his brain for an intelligent, encouraging response. “Does she? Hair just like mine? Is it long, too?”
She nods fervently, cupping a hand in front of her like she’s holding an imaginary doll while her other hand pets the air around it. “I brush it all the time, and I tie it up like my hair, too. And, and she’s my favorite, and she beats up bad guys. She used to be bad, but she’s good now.”
“Oh, wow,” he responds slowly with what he hopes comes off as well-feigned awe. “She sounds tough.”
“Yeah! And one bad guy, they fight all the time, but they’re friends, and they eat ice cream together, and they skateboard together. But they skateboard by laying on their tummies and using their hands, and, but that’s how they fight—the one who skates over to the goal first is the winner. And the hero always wins, and that’s why she’s a hero. She’s really good at skateboarding like Daddy and Father.”
“That’s, um, wow,” Kaoru says again, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek. “She must be very…cool. Did you give her a name?”
“Daddy did! He named her Haruka, like Gramma Haruka, because he says Gramma was like a hero, too. He really likes playing heroes with me, and Father also plays sometimes. Last time, the heroes were trying to rescue this old, magical rose from the evil witch. If the rose died, all of the roses in the world would die, and roses are Daddy’s favorite. The witch didn’t want to make Daddy sad, though, so she gave the rose back. And then they all had ice cream.”
“They must really like ice cream,” Kaoru notes.
“Uh-huh, ice cream is really yummy. They get it all the time, and they eat it for dinner every day. Haruka’s favorite flavor is…”
While Kaoru still finds himself somewhat on edge, at times struggling to follow Misaki’s creative line of thinking, they fall into an easy sort of rhythm, with Kaoru prompting Misaki just enough to keep her going and let her exhaust the list of topics buzzing around in her brain. They go from dolls to the dog that Misaki’s been promised they’ll adopt, then to a story about how she snuck into the kitchen one morning to surprise her fathers with breakfast while they were both asleep and the kitchen staff had stepped out, later returning to find wet flour splattered all over the place, including caked into Misaki’s hair.
To Kaoru’s surprise, though, she starts to trail off, gaze drifting to Kojiro as he attempts to convince Ainosuke to hit the gym with him—as if Ainosuke doesn’t have a private gym set up available to him at home.
“It’s not the same,” Kojiro argues. “When you work out with other people, you feed off of their motivation, and it helps you really push yourself to your limits and get it done.”
Ainosuke sniffs, looking down his nose at Kojiro. “They’re unsanitary, and they reek. Does the stink of a stranger’s sweat and desperation inspire you?”
“Whatever. Enough of you.” Kojiro waves a hand dismissively at Ainosuke. “Tadashi, you get what I’m saying, right? How about it?”
Tadashi hesitates, and Kaoru can already tell that he’s bracing himself to let Kojiro down.
“I don’t have the time to go somewhere else, so if we didn’t work out at home, I don’t think I would at all,” Tadashi says, mouth twitching in what almost seems like amusement as Kojiro dramatically throws his hands up in the air and doubles down on his attempted recruitment.
Kaoru loses himself in watching Kojiro’s rapidly changing facial expression, tracing the kind lines around his eyes and the pull of his smile against his cheeks even when he’s feigning frustration. When green curls fall into his face, Kaoru’s lucky that he’s both too comfortable and too aware of his company to lean over and comb his hair back into place, though his fingers still itch to do so. He could just imagine the way Ainosuke would leer at him for being so boldly affectionate, as if he had any room to talk, curled against Tadashi with his legs across the man’s lap.
A barely-there tug at his sleeve pulls him from his musings, and he looks down to where Misaki’s sitting next to him, expecting her to have another series of mind-numbing stories prepared for him. His breath catches in his throat at the sight awaiting him: Misaki, fast asleep with her head resting against his arm while she holds a sliver of his sleeve between her fingers.
Though the voice constantly niggling at the back of his mind reminds him that she might be actively drooling or snotting on him, he’s surprisingly unbothered, instead only feeling warmth and protectiveness toward the small form tucked against him. He thinks, for a moment, that he gets it—why people so readily cherish children, in awe of their natural earnestness. They’re a lot of work—more work than Kaoru can regularly commit to, admittedly—but their love and trust are precious rewards.
This time, it’s easier to let go of his worries and relax—at least, until Tadashi starts sneakily taking photos of Misaki sleeping next to him, and Ainosuke and Kojiro excitedly join in, too.
Kaoru leans his hip against one of the balustrades leading out from the entrance to the estate, his arms crossed over his chest. In the driveway a few feet off,Tadashi and Kojiro are discussing something Kaoru can’t quite hear, aside from Kojiro’s occasional laugh. Kojiro is holding Misaki against his chest, where she’s attempting to tie a few strands of his curls into knots around his ear. He doesn’t seem to notice or mind what she’s doing, though Kaoru thinks he recognizes something apologetic in Tadashi’s weary expression.
Kojiro winces after a particularly firm tug on his hair, and Tadashi takes that as his cue to hold out his arms for Kojiro to pass Misaki along. With narrowed eyes that seem all too calculating for a child of her age, Misaki seizes the opportunity to surprise both men by digging her feet into Kojiro’s ribs and attempting to spring into Tadashi’s waiting arms. She doesn’t get very far, still half tangled in Kojiro’s hold, and while Kojiro stumbles at the sudden (painful, judging by his pinched expression) impact to his side, Tadashi dives forward to catch Misaki before she can tumble to the ground.
Her bright laughs drown out Kojiro’s groans and Tadashi’s scolding, and without realizing it, Kaoru finds himself smiling.
Having also been watching the scene from afar, Ainosuke comes up on Kaoru’s right, fingers brushing Kaoru’s shoulder in acknowledgement. Kaoru’s smile immediately drops to a scowl, which only seems to make the other chuckle.
They’re both quiet for a moment, watching Kojiro try to untangle his hair while Tadashi whispers something into Misaki’s ear. Kaoru feels Ainosuke’s occasional glances in his direction, like he is hesitating on something he wants to say, and the looks slowly wear away at his patience.
“What,” Kaoru says eventually.
“You’re sure I can’t convince you to take her some time so that I can whisk Tadashi away for a romantic weekend getaway?” Ainosuke asks quietly, tilting his head ever so slightly as he casts Kaoru the fondest look he can manage.
Kaoru knows Ainosuke too well to fall for this sweet side of him, but despite that, he still finds himself softening in the face of Ainosuke’s charm. “…I’ll think about it.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, judging by the way Ainosuke’s eyebrows jump up his forehead, ruby eyes alight with opportunity. “I suppose I better get to planning, then, before you change your mind.”
Kaoru sputters, irritation bubbling beneath his skin as Ainosuke’s smirk grows wide. “I said I’d think about it, not that I’ve agreed to it.”
“Coming from you, they’re practically the same thing. Anyway, I’ll give you—“
“They are not the same—“
“—a call when I’ve ironed out the details—”
“—Are you listening? You fu—“
“—Thank you, Blossom. I greatly appreciate it and will be in your debt for the foreseeable future.”
Somewhat mollified, Kaoru cuts his rant short with a huff. “I’m not doing it for you. Someone will have to reassure her that her beloved fathers haven’t cruelly abandoned her.”
Ainosuke’s posture stiffens at his implications, despite their sarcastic nature. “Watch it,” he says, a slight edge to his tone that tells Kaoru not to push that particular matter. He’s always been very defensive of his daughter, raising her with the utmost care and wasting long nights stressing over every minor problem. Though Kaoru will never admit it, he admires Ainosuke’s caution and commitment and thinks fatherhood suits him surprisingly well.
Kaoru is saved from having to divert the conversation by the loud clomping of Kojiro’s sandals hitting stone as he makes his way up the front steps toward them. “Y’ready to go?”
“Let’s,” Kaoru replies, perhaps a tad too eagerly. He moves away from the balustrade and follows Kojiro down the steps, offering Ainosuke a wave without turning back. “We’ll see you when we see you.”
“And what about my goodbye kiss?” Ainosuke calls, sounding more put out than he has any right to be.
Kaoru shoots him a withering glare over his shoulder, enough to make the man concede with a pout. Satisfied, Kaoru takes a moment to smirk to himself before turning to Tadashi, who’s now standing next to their car and exchanging quiet words with the staff driver, Misaki still hoisted on his hip.
Misaki starts to squirm, and without taking his eyes off the driver, who seems to be verifying some sort of schedule, Tadashi dips his head down closer to Misaki’s and whispers, “Use your words, please.”
“Can you please set me down, please?” Misaki whispers back loudly enough to be disruptive.
The corner of Tadashi’s mouth ticks up in a slight smile, and he nods, carefully setting her on her feet. “There you go.”
While Tadashi apologizes and asks the other man to repeat himself, Misaki makes a beeline for Kaoru and Kojiro. Kaoru expects a goodbye that’s as dramatic as their hello, so he’s surprised when Misaki stops and stands a polite distance from him, wrapping her small fingers around his as she rocks back and forth on her feet.
“See you soon?” she says, landing several successive critical hits on Kaoru with her wide, shining eyes and her wobbling frown.
Kaoru can feel Kojiro’s eyes on him as well, likely waiting to be told to intervene, but instead, Kaoru smiles down at Misaki, fully curling his hand around hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course. You’ll see us again. Maybe we’ll even have a slumber party.”
The phrase slumber party ignites something in Misaki’s expression, and she brightens up immediately, gleefully tugging on Kaoru’s hand and swinging it around before finally letting go. “Okay!”
She sprints off before Kaoru can say another word, her excited shouts fading as she goes. “Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Kao said…”
Kaoru sighs and shakes his head. “Let’s go now. If I have to see Ainosuke’s smug smirk one more time, I might hit him hard enough to hurt.”
Kojiro chuckles. “Don’t you always?”
They say their thanks and goodbyes to Tadashi, Kojiro patting him on the back and pointing out that he looks due for a long, undisturbed nap. It isn’t until they’re in the car and have been on the road for a few minutes that Kojiro clears his throat and breaks his silence with Kaoru.
“You were good with her,” he says, and Kaoru keeps his gaze glued to the road as he drives to prevent himself from getting flustered at the unexpected praise.
“Hmm.”
“I’m being serious,” Kojiro says. “Kids are a lot, and you did a pretty good job of acting like you know how to be around one. You know, despite being a robo-nerd, and all that.”
Kaoru takes a hand off the wheel and blindly swats at him. “Shut up.”
“And what was that about a slumber party?”
“Kojiro.”
“I can’t believe you let Adam sweet talk you into babysitting. Should I be jealous?”
“I will kick you out of this moving vehicle.”
He doesn’t, of course, even if he considers it a miracle of incredible restraint on his part when they return home unscathed. Kojiro makes himself scarce with the excuse of needing to call one of his suppliers, leaving Kaoru to his own devices which, for the rest of the day, involve curling into the crook of the couch and tinkering on his tablet.
Before Kaoru can get too distracted, Carla reminds him that he has text notifications that turn out to all be from Ainosuke—a screenshot of a hotel booking receipt, dates and times, and a salacious winking emoji.